


Ore wa omae ga...

by Windsor_Writes



Series: This Hunger That Chases Contentment [2]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Anal Fingering, Canon Compliant, Fantasizing, Fluff and Angst, Foiled Confessions, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Public Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windsor_Writes/pseuds/Windsor_Writes
Summary: Yukito is reeling from the discovery that he's not human. Touya finally told him how he feels, but he doesn't know what to make of Yukito's response. He has to find the courage to tell him again in words he can't mistake.In the meantime, he handles his frustration. At school. At work. At home.





	1. At School

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I need three chapters for this Touya wank fic. He's too much fun to write.
> 
> This is the second part of a series:  
> Part 1: The Moon's Hunger - Yuki pines for Touya  
> Part 2: Ore wa omae ga... - Touya pines for Yuki  
> Part 3: They figure out their mutual feelings and act on their shared fantasies  
> Part 4: Coaxing Yue
> 
> If you enjoy this and want to check out some of my original m/m fantasy and cyberpunk, head over to my author site: [Windsor Writes](https://windsorwritesblog.wordpress.com)

It was a hot September day, and everyone was thirsty. Though it was only the Tomoeda Highschool Culture Festival, Touya thought the whole town had shown up in the nice weather. He and Yukito wound their way across the busy school yard back to the little table that Sakura and her friends had staked out, carrying iced oolong teas for everyone. Touya had paid for them as usual. 

He handed Li and Hiiragizawa their drinks, glaring at each of them in turn, but it was halfhearted. Touya sat next to Yuki and closed his eyes, tuning out the conversation. He kept playing his words to Yuki over in his head, wondering if he'd said enough. If he'd said too much. Yuki's response... A rising tide of weariness lapped at his ankles. How long till it dragged him under again? He'd slept through classes yesterday. He'd slept most of this morning while Yuki set up the projection room to play the movie their class had filmed for the festival. Useless. _You were useful when it mattered._ He took a long drink of tea. It was so hot outside. The bunkasai crowds were too loud. 

Yuki was talking. “Have you explored campus yet?” 

“No, not yet,” Sakura said. 

“If you’d like, I’ll give you a tour.” 

What? No. They’d just sat down. 

“Is that OK?” Sakura’s delight stung. God, he was a terrible brother. But he’d only _just_ bared his heart to Yuki, and Yuki was acting like it hadn’t happened. His attentiveness to Sakura was salt in a cut so fresh that Touya was only just realizing he was bleeding. 

“Yeah. I’m done with my shift in the projection room already,” Yuki said. 

Touya couldn’t do this. With his luck, he'd collapse in front of everyone. Or worse, he’d say something mean. If Sakura sensed an edge to his teasing beyond brotherly affection, he wouldn’t forgive himself. 

“I’ll be napping in the classroom,” he said, pushing back from the table. 

Everyone stopped talking and turned to him: Hiiragizawa with polite concern, Sakura cutely protective, Daidouji reserved but sincere, Yuki looking guilt wracked. Even the brat looked worried. Touya scowled at him. Li stiffened and scowled back. Better. 

“Are you alright?” Yuki said, his voice gone low with feeling in that way that usually made Touya’s heart race, sending all his blood from his head to less useful places. This time, though, it was just another pang in his already aching chest. He had to get away from the noise of the festival, away from the heat and glare of the midday sun. Away from Yuki. 

Yuki half stood, ready to make his apologies to the group. Touya held up a hand to stop him. “I’m just tired. Don’t worry about it.” 

Touya dodged the raw look Yuki gave him. He turned to Sakura instead. “Don’t get too excited and devour everything like a monster.” Teasing her was a feeble effort at redirection, but her temper didn’t let him down. She fumed. He walked away while she had them distracted. 

He _was_ tired. He really did intend to lie down. But more than that, he needed to be alone for a little. His stoic mask was slipping. He couldn’t pretend interest in the festival. If he stayed, he’d just keep worrying everyone. Yuki would pile guilt on himself. Touya was already dead tired of the haunted, stricken expression Yuki tried to hide behind a shaky smile ever since that afternoon at Hiiragizawa’s. Idiot. Didn’t he know that Touya had given over his power gladly? Didn’t he know what a relief it was to be able to _do something?_

Nothing could be worse than the helpless terror he’d felt as Yuki faded before his eyes, translucent and vague as a movie playing on a screen in bright daylight. When he’d gathered him in his arms, there had been no heft to his body, just an impression of warmth. It had been futile as trying to hold onto a dream while waking. Touya couldn’t bear waking to a world without Yuki in it. Surely Yuki knew that. 

Hell, he’d told him so not an hour ago. In the private dark of the projection room he’d finally gathered the courage to say what he felt. _It doesn’t matter what you are. As long as you don’t disappear, as long as you stay by my side, I don’t care about anything else._

In all the versions of that confession that he’d rehearsed but never, until then, managed to act on, he’d imagined all sorts of responses from Yuki. When he was feeling confident, he imagined delight. They would both laugh at how slow they'd been. He imagined Yuki yielding in his arms, lips and body pressed against him, as starved as he was. Sometimes he imagined his surprise, amber eyes wide behind glasses and lips parted around fast, shallow breaths. A whispered, “Me too.” He imagined blushing confusion and requests for time to think. On bad days, he imagined dawning horror transforming Yuki’s face from that of a friend to a stranger’s. 

In no version had he imagined the pained, grateful smile and soft, “Thank you,” he’d actually gotten. That was a good response, though…right? Maybe a bit tepid, but not bad. Why did it feel like rejection? 

Touya went back to the projection room. It would be relatively dark and quiet. In fact, when he arrived, he found it empty. Whoever was in charge of running the film must have snuck off while it played. Touya slumped into a chair and watched. In the room below, Yuki’s face was huge on the screen. The Taisho-period costume suited him with its high collar and black half cape. He looked stately. Ethereal. Girls were squeeing in the crowd of viewers, and Touya was inclined to agree. But he liked Yuki's usual outfits. His dorky everyday sweaters and button downs couldn’t hide his beauty, but there was something earthy and comfortable about them that let Touya feel like maybe he could keep him. 

Touya lay down across the chairs, head where Yuki had been sitting before. Fatigue pressed down on him. Losing his power was like losing one of his senses, confusing all his others. He felt like he was stumbling around under a lead blanket. Everything was muffled and off kilter. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on his perceptions of the spiritual world, trusting that he would sense if something were wrong and that he could see things for what they were. He’d known at first sight that Yuki wasn’t human. He had thought Yuki hid it out of shyness or fear. Touya respected that silence the way he respected Sakura’s desire to keep her magical powers and constant predicaments secret. He’d always hoped that Yuki would trust him enough to tell him, but he’d been willing to wait. Touya was good at waiting.

But now he was afraid he was the one who’d been withholding the secret all along. Yuki hadn’t known about himself. He’d been reeling ever since he found out. It hurt to think how afraid he must have been, how confused, all these months of growing hunger and exhaustion. Touya had been so frustrated, angry even, that Yuki didn’t reach out to him. Whatever magic sustained him was failing, and he wouldn’t ask for help. But of course he hadn’t known what he needed or how to ask. He hadn’t known. 

“Baka.” Touya didn’t know if he meant Yuki or himself. Both. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. 

It wasn’t safe to assume Yuki knew how he felt. Yes, he’d told him, but Yuki hadn’t been in any state to hear it. He’d just have to tell him again… The bleakness of that thought startled a laugh from him. As if it were so simple. Words were wayward tools, never there when he reached for them. 

Well…he could tell him later. It would be selfish to press the issue now. Yuki had enough to sort out without Touya’s feelings adding to his burden. 

He’d come here to nap, but he fought off sleep, chasing his thoughts in circles instead. Missing a sense left him feeling vulnerable. If something happened while he slept, he’d never notice. He wished Yuki were there. Stupid, since he’d come here to escape him. It was better for Yuki to be with Sakura, anyway. If something untoward happened, it would happen to her, not him. He could sleep, trusting she was safe with…he’d called himself Yue. 

Touya swallowed and lifted a hand to his throat. He pressed fingers to the tender skin just below his jaw. Yue had kissed him there. His pulse sped beneath his fingers at the memory. Touya had always sensed the banked light hidden within Yukito. Yuki had a…gravity to him. It had always pulled at Touya, drawing him close. But the splendor of him when that banked light flared to full brilliance...nothing had prepared Touya for that. Even at the time, in the midst of his terror at the thought of losing Yuki, Yue had taken his breath away. His shining wings had filled the room. His impossibly long hair had trailed through the air as he flew, no, _floated_ toward him. Of course gravity would bend to his will. He’d alighted so close, Touya couldn’t help but breathe in the wind-and-winter-sea smell of him. Yue was taller than Yuki but still shorter than Touya. (He felt inordinately pleased at this thought.) Yue had stood on tiptoe, hands on Touya’s shoulders, and pressed soft, cool lips right here, against his throat. Any touch would have been enough to channel Touya’s power. Yue had chosen to close the distance with a kiss. His first kiss from Yuki, and it hadn’t really been Yuki. He couldn’t grudge it, though. It had been so sweet and solemn. …And hot, he thought guiltily – his power rising like a maelstrom, heat and electricity building, gathering at the point where bodies met and surging into Yue. Touya breathed deep, petting himself from his throat to his stomach. He palmed himself through his uniform trousers, half hard already. 

It would take the edge off. He really did need to sleep. Touya unbuckled his belt and slid his hand under the waistband of his black briefs. He gripped and drew his fist along himself, lengthening and swelling into his own touch. He pushed the waistband down to cradle his balls and shifted to be more comfortable on the chairs. He listened to Yuki's voice, a little muffled beyond the glass. He focused on the tone and cadence of it. He thought about kissing Yuki. (He always thought about kissing Yuki when he did this.) He’d come so close, the day he found him asleep on his feet in the shade of the big tree at the edge of the soccer field. In that unguarded moment, with light and shadow playing over his sleeping face, Yuki had been so lovely, so vulnerable that love had swept all of Touya's clumsy inhibitions away. He'd tried to tell him. _Ore wa omae ga…_ “Suki,” he finished aloud in the dark. Why was it so difficult to say? He’d wanted to pin Yuki against that tree and chase the dappled light across his cheeks with kiss after kiss. He’d wanted to tell him everything he needed to know without words. Touya licked his lips. He slicked his thumb over his wet slit. He rubbed his palm over it, slicking that too, the better to work himself. He wanted Yuki’s mouth. He wanted to breathe his breath and taste his tongue and suck his lips pink and swollen. He wanted to kiss his glasses askew and rumple his hair and uniform. He wanted to make a mess of him. 

Stressed as he was, it took a while to bring himself to the edge. He was a bit worried that his classmates might walk in. The film would run a while longer, but there was no telling when they’d come back. He’d jacked off at school before. And at work. He spent so much time near Yuki; it was constant pleasure and torture. He didn’t want his frustration to show, so he took care of it. Often. His power let him know if anyone else was near, so it hadn’t felt risky before. Now anyone might catch him. What if Yuki came looking for him? 

Oh, that was a good thought… Yuki watching with a little shocked gasp and shift of his hips as he went hard himself. He’d crouch near for a better view, hand on Touya’s thigh, pushing it wider. When it was too much for him to just watch, he’d say something polite, “Let me.” He’d be blushing, eyes fierce and brows furrowed as he focused on what his hand was doing. He’d be worried about getting caught. If Touya didn’t come quickly enough for him, maybe he’d trade his hand for his mouth. Touya had no doubt Yuki could swallow him whole. 

That did it. Touya groaned, hips lifting off the chairs. He bucked and pumped into his hand, trying to catch all the warm, sticky mess. He had practice keeping the blue cloth of his uniform clean. He licked his own bitter, salty musk from his palm and fingers. This is what he’d taste like to Yuki. Would Yuki mind? Did he taste the same? He wasn’t human, after all… Well, this was all getting ahead of himself. Touya wiped himself off with his shirttails, then tucked those in, out of sight. He sighed, closing his eyes, finally giving in to sleep. 

Unbidden, he remembered the way Yue had caught him as he fell. He’d cradled him in strong, slender arms, picking Touya up as though he weighed nothing. Half dreaming, Touya imagined himself held and safe, folded in protective wings. 


	2. At Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touya buys a book as a present for Yuki. He buys a few for himself as well...

It was Saturday, and Yuki hadn’t come.

Touya worked weekends as a barista at the coffee shop in front of Tomoeda Station. This was convenient because the coffee shop was next to Maruzen, the biggest bookstore in town and Yuki’s favorite place to spend his free time. This meant that most Saturdays, after getting himself a book next door, he spent the afternoon reading in Touya’s coffeeshop. This let Touya sneak looks at him in between orders and while he wiped down tables. He loved the way Yuki lost track of everything around him when he read. He hunched over the text with his bangs falling into his eyes and his glasses slowly sliding down his nose, and he would just keep tucking back his hair and pushing up his glasses, oblivious. Touya liked to try out new drinks on him, an excuse to walk over and see what he was reading. He always topped them in thick foam or whipped cream, and Yuki always got a little on his nose with the first sip. Truth be told, the drinks he concocted for Yuki were too sweet for the store to add to the menu, but his coworkers were in on the game and went along with it. They had running bets on how much caramel and chocolate Touya could put in a latte before Yuki said something. To date, Yuki had never complained, and Touya had made 5,200 yen off his coworkers.

This Saturday, though, Yuki hadn’t come in. Touya had been watching the door all afternoon. He told himself he wasn’t crestfallen. It would be silly to be disappointed over something so small. It wasn’t that Yuki was avoiding him. He had been unusually withdrawn the past few weeks, but that was understandable. Anyone would need space after finding out he wasn’t human. And there was what had happened with Sakura.

Touya wiped down the counter till he could see his own fierce expression in it. It wasn’t just that Yuki had been keeping to himself lately. He shied away or went rigid any time Touya touched him, no matter how casual the contact. They had always been physically affectionate and comfortable with each other. It was just little gestures. Yuki would pick up Touya’s wrist to check the time; he never bought a watch of his own. When they sat next to each other, they relaxed into each other’s space, arms and knees touching. Touya even pinched Yuki’s cheeks sometimes when he had the overwhelming need to do _something_ to him. Yuki had never minded before. Now he startled as if electrocuted if their shoulders so much as brushed.

Maybe he’d said too much after all. Maybe Yuki could tell he was working himself up to confess and was hoping he wouldn’t. Then again, it was just as likely that Yuki was tearing himself up inside, convincing himself he wasn’t fit for human company. Should he back off? Should he push past their new awkwardness and try to reassure him?

“I think that counter is clean,” his coworker Misato said beside him. “Can you try to look a bit friendlier? You’re scaring the customers.”

Touya sighed and closed his eyes, unclenching his jaw.

He just had to be patient. He would do whatever he could to support Yuki until he felt secure again. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Yuki read anything outside of schoolwork these past few weeks either. He decided to stop by Maruzen after his shift and buy a book for him. He could bring it to Yuki’s house on his way home and invite him to dinner. A book was a solid attack. It couldn’t fail to cheer and distract him. 

At last his shift was over. Touya took off his apron and hung it on its hook. His fitted black button down was enough like street clothes that he hadn’t brought a change. He untucked it, unbuttoned the collar another hole, and rolled the sleeves half up his forearms. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder to his coworkers as he left.

What kind of book should he get? Yuki’s tastes were more refined than his – he devoured classics like Souseki and Kunikida – but they were broad too. He liked contemporary novels, even foreign ones. Touya had less time to read and wasn’t as quick at it, but he liked to read the same books as Yuki so that they could discuss them. His favorite so far had been when they’d read the Harry Potter series together. Yuki had been alternately delighted and offended at the way magic worked in those books. Yuki so rarely expressed strong opinions; it was a thrill whenever he did. Maybe he should look for a book about magic, something with a sorcerer or witch. Wasn’t _Howl’s Moving Castle_ based off of a novel?

“Excuse me.” He stopped by the information desk on his way in. “What section would Howl’s Moving Castle be in? The novel. There’s a novel, right?”

“There is!” The cheerful man at the counter said, looking up from his monitor. He startled a little to find himself level with Touya’s chest. He tilted his head back, then glanced down and up again. Was this guy checking him out? He was! His cheeks had flushed.

He was college aged, short and soft around the edges, with wavy hair and thick-framed glasses. Touya supposed he was his type. The man flustered and busied himself with the computer when Touya just stared at him. “It will either be with translated works or in the fantasy section. Let’s see… Here we go. It’s in fantasy.” He wrote down the author, title, and section on a sticky note and handed that to Touya. “You work at the coffee shop next door, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around. I drink so much coffee, it’s a wonder I sleep.”

Touya made a noncommittal noise. He’d never had another guy flirt with him before. It was flattering. But there was no point. He wasn’t Yuki.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He was definitely flirting. 

“Ah…just this. Thanks.” Touya nodded to him before walking away. He wanted the man to know he wasn’t offended, but he didn’t want to encourage him. What a strange problem to have. Touya guessed he was handsome enough - girls came to cheer for him at soccer games – but people rarely approached him. Yuki said he glowered. Only Yuki had never been fazed by it. 

Yuki also never looked him up and down like that. 

God, what if he just wanted to be friends? What if he turned him down, like he had Sakura? He would be so gentle about it. The thought hurt. Physically. When he got to the fantasy section, Touya realized he’d crumpled the note in his hand. He had to smooth it out to read it. He scanned the titles on the shelves without really seeing them.

The day after the school festival, Yuki admitted that Sakura had finally confessed her feelings to him. He said it with hunched shoulders and averted eyes, like he expected Touya to be angry. Touya’s heart had clawed its way toward his throat. Then Yuki said he’d turned her down as gingerly as he could. Relief left Touya so dizzy that he’d staggered, and Yuki had caught his arm. He passed it off as another wave of fatigue.

Of course he hated to see Sakura sad, but her fervent, loyal crush on Yuki was something Touya had never known what to do with. It annoyed him. He was jealous. It was cute. It was tragic. He didn’t know. He’d never really worried that Yuki would return her feelings…until lately. Sakura had been growing into herself, gaining more than magic in whatever battles she’d been fighting. She was still a sweet, naïve idiot, but then he could hardly blame Yuki if he went for that sort of thing. Goodness knew Touya did.

There it was. _Howl’s Moving Castle_ by Diana Wynn Jones. It was shelved face outward, showing off cover art from the Ghibli version. How long had he been standing here, looking right at it without noticing? Touya sighed at himself and tucked the book under his arm.

On his way to the checkout desk, in the corner of his field of vision, he glimpsed a long-haired, white-winged figure. He pulled up so quickly that a person walking behind him ran into his back. Yue? Here? That couldn’t be. Not unless something dire was happening with Sakura…

The woman who’d run into him was apologizing aggressively, annoyed with him. “Sorry,” he said, distracted, wandering toward what he’d seen. At second glance, it obviously wasn’t Yue. It didn’t hover or shine or fill the air with the crisp scent of sky and snow. It was just a life-sized cardboard cutout figure next to a display table for a new manga release. The character was a beautiful winged man with long aqua hair and more jewelry than clothing.

It was just a character, nowhere as lovely as Yue. Still… Touya picked up a copy of the manga from the stack on the table and flipped through it, looking for more pictures of the winged character.

In the first he came to, the winged man hovered over a fallen, bleeding knight. A tear fell onto the knight’s bloody cheek. A little melodramatic. Touya flipped a few more pages. Here the knight was bandaged and awake, and the winged man straddled his lap. The knight had his hands buried in feathers. In the next panel, they kissed. Touya turned the next page with more interest. The knight had moved his hands lower. A closeup panel showed oil slick fingers sliding into - Oh! It was _that_ kind of manga. Touya swallowed. His breath sounded too loud. He held it. So that was a thing men could do together… He turned the page. And that… 

“Kinomoto-san?” A voice beside him.

He nearly dropped the manga. He clapped it shut and turned. “Y.yes?”

It was one of Sakura’s friends. The one with the glasses who liked to tell ghost stories. “Ah, I thought I recognized you,” she said at his affirmation. “Sakura-chan’s older brother. You probably don’t remember me. Yanagisawa Naoko.” She gave a shy smile, leaning sideways to peer at the book in his hand. “You like Azure Wind?”

His ears burned. “Uh…it looks…interesting.” What was he even saying? Shit, Sakura’s friend read this stuff? 

“I’ve been waiting for volume seven!” She picked up a copy of her own from the table and put it in a basket already lined in books. “Have you read the others?”

“No,” he said, subdued. 

She was undeterred, leading him to a nearby shelf. “Here’s volume one,” she pulled it out and handed it to him. “Ah, they have this too. I like her fantasy, but this is her best work.” She pulled out another manga and handed him that too. It had two boys in soccer uniforms on the cover, one backing the other against the goal, gripping the net beside his head.

“Ah, thanks. I’m sure this is plenty.”

“Oh, of course,” she said, blinking. “I’m sorry. I’m piling you with books. You don’t even have a basket.”

“I just came in for one thing.”

“I always come in for just one book. But then,” she looked at her basket. She smiled down at her books. “Ah, it’s fun to meet anyone else who likes this sort of thing.”

“Look…”

“It’s OK. I won’t say anything to Sakura.” 

He was doubly embarrassed that it was so obvious that was what he was going to ask. He decided to cut his losses. “Thanks for always looking out for my sister,” he said by way of excusing himself.

He found himself at the checkout counter with _Howl’s Moving Castle, Azure Wind_ volumes one and seven, and _Score!_ volume one. The person at the counter was the cute, glasses wearing guy. He had the worst luck today.

“Oh good, you found it,” the man said, scanning Howl. “And this just came out yesterday,” he considered _Azure Wind_ as he scanned it. He valiantly said nothing about the rest of Touya’s purchases, but he looked as pleased about them as Yuki would in front of a cake shop window. Touya had the sinking feeling he’d be seeing the guy at the coffee shop. He’d probably try to talk to him about BL manga.

Touya was glad it was a good ten-minute bike ride from the station to Yuki’s house. It was enough time for his ears and cheeks to stop burning. The sun had just gone down, and evenings were getting cooler. The brisk air and exercise cleared his head. He propped his bike just inside the garden gate at Yuki’s. He fished the manga and receipt out of the Maruzen bag and hid those in his backpack. Then, with just the novel in hand, he walked up to the front door and rang the bell. 

It was a while before Yuki answered, and when he did, he looked flushed. His hair stuck up on one side like he’d been lying down. “Touya! Good evening,” he said, eyes smiling behind his glasses. Touya felt guilty for getting Yuki up. He must have been napping. But at least he sounded genuinely pleased to see him in spite of that.

As he replied with a casual, “Evening,” Touya reached out and felt Yuki’s forehead. Yuki went still as a caught rabbit. His forehead was cool. Yuki never got colds, but one never knew with everything that was going on with Sakura’s magic and those cards. It would explain why he hadn’t come to visit him at work.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been fine ever since…”

Touya let his hand and the subject drop. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“Come over for dinner. Dad’s cooking.”

Yuki’s face fell. “I don’t know. Do you think Sakura would want me around? It hasn’t been that long.”

“The monster is already back to her rampaging self.”

Yuki looked up at him, sweet and doubtful.

“Really,” Touya said. He lifted a hand to squeeze Yuki’s shoulder but aborted the motion, awkwardly scratching the back of his head instead. The desire to touch him and comfort him was instinctive. “She’s working hard to be cheerful. She wouldn’t want you to stay away. You’re family.”

A little shiver went through Yuki. Touya wondered again if it was possible for him to catch a cold.

“It’s chilly out here. You can debate inside while you make me tea. I brought you something.” Touya pressed the Maruzen bag to Yuki’s chest. Yuki perked, snapping out of his guilty reverie, and caught the bag with both hands as Touya walked past him into the house to put the kettle on.

“Oh!” The happy exclamation behind him sent an echoing wave of happiness through Touya. “Some people were talking about this at school,” Yuki said. “I didn’t realize it was a novel too. And by a British author.” Yuki followed him into the kitchen. He was too absorbed in reading the book’s introduction to see Touya’s smug smile. He was into the first chapter by the time Touya finished brewing a pot of houjicha. (He wanted something stronger than sencha. He felt another of those unpredictable waves of weariness coming on. They were fewer and farther apart, but he still had one or two a day.)

“I was supposed to make that for you,” Yuki said when Touya set a cup on the counter next to where he leaned. 

“I’m glad you like the book. Lend it to me when you’ve finished? I want to read it so we can talk about it.” 

Yuki smiled small and closed his eyes against some feeling that looked suspiciously like sorrow. Touya hoped it wasn’t sorrow. That it was the kind of happiness that was so sweet it hurt. Or love. Yuki was as unearthly beautiful as Yue in his way. He was also unbearably cute with his hair sticking up on one side. 

“Thank you,” Yuki said in that low, sweet tone he reserved for Touya. 

The words were there, pushing against the lump in his throat. He could just tell him. _Suki da. Daisuki._ If only Yuki felt the same, it would be the most natural thing in the world. He wouldn’t have to wonder what to do when Yuki made faces like that. He could follow his instinct to wrap his arms around him from behind and bury his face in his hair and just hold him. 

_No. No that’s selfish. He’s having a hard enough time as it is._ Touya couldn’t tell if that was empathy or cowardice talking. 

The moment passed. They drank their tea standing in the kitchen. Touya was worried that if he knelt at the table in the livingroom, he’d just keel over sideways and go to sleep. When they finished, Touya said, “Will you come?” 

“If you really think it’s all right.” 

“I really think it’s all right.” He reached out and fingercombed Yuki’s hair into place before he caught himself. Was that a good shiver or a bad one?

 

It was awkward after all. Sakura was trying too hard. Yuki was more subdued than usual, not speaking other than to make polite exclamations about the food. Touya was too sleepy and muzzy headed to think of anything to say to smooth things along. Fujitaka saved them. He spent the meal telling stories about the dig he’d just returned from. Outside of the classroom, his father was usually quiet, like Touya was, but he had an easy manner and was a gifted storyteller. 

As soon as they’d finished eating, Touya turned to Yuki. “I have some studying to do. Want to hang out upstairs?”

Touya was in no shape to study. He thought he might pass out as soon as he made it to his room. But he didn’t want Yuki to just go home feeling awkward, and he didn’t think either Yuki or Sakura were up to any more dinnertable conversation. 

A strange panicked look crossed Yuki’s face, and Touya thought he might excuse himself to go home anyway. 

“I’ll bring dessert up for you,” Fujitaka said before Yuki could object. 

“I don’t know if you’re going to get much studying done,” Yuki said on their way up the stairs. “You’re asleep on your feet. Why don’t you just go to bed? I’ll go home.” 

“Keep me awake till dessert comes,” Touya said. “Otherwise the monster will eat my share. There’s no keeping desserts in the fridge anymore.” 

In Touya’s room Yuki knelt at the coffee table and pulled out the book. Touya was pleased that he’d brought it along. He pulled out a textbook for show and sat crosslegged next to Yuki. He didn’t stay awake until dessert came.

 

He woke warm and comfortable. A blanket was over him, but he wasn’t in bed. The floor was hard under his hip. His head was pillowed on something warm and giving. Cool fingers carded through his hair in a soothing, repetitive motion that he realized had carried over from his dreams. Something was propped on his shoulder. He heard a page turn. All the pieces came together. Yuki was using him as a bookstand while he read. His head was in Yuki’s lap. Yuki was petting his hair. Maybe he was still dreaming.

Touya let out a low moan of contentment. Yuki froze. Touya rubbed his cheek sleepily across Yuki’s thigh and grumbled, “Don’t stop.”

His head thunked onto the rug. That woke him up properly. He grumbled more as he pushed himself to sitting. Yuki knelt rigid beside him with the book open across his lap. Touya blushed. He supposed the cheek rub might have been pushing it. 

“Your pudding,” Yuki said. His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and went on like nothing had happened, “Your father brought it a while ago, but you were already so deeply asleep, I hated to wake you.” 

A caramel topped pudding on a china plate sat next to a similar but empty plate on the little table. Touya wondered if his head had been on Yuki’s lap when his father had brought them in. 

“Thanks for guarding it,” Touya said. He rubbed his cheek. Had he been drooling? “Was I asleep long?” 

“About an hour.” 

“Some company I am.” 

“I don’t mind.” Yuki tapped the open book. He was more than a third of the way into it.

Yuki had been petting his hair. Touya thought on that as he ate his pudding. It didn’t mean anything that he’d accidentally given Yuki a hardon, which was almost certainly what had happened. He’d been nuzzling his lap. He expected that was a normal involuntary physical reaction. But Yuki had been _petting his hair._

When Touya finished, Yuki picked up both plates. “I’ll take these to the kitchen. You should go to bed.”

“I’ll walk you down,” Touya insisted. 

As he stood in the open front door watching Yuki turn the corner at the end of the street, his hair silver in the light of the waning moon, Touya heard the scuff of his father’s slippers behind him. 

“How is Tsukishiro?” Fujitaka asked quietly. 

“I’m worried about him,” Touya said. It felt good to say it aloud. It felt good to know his father was worried about him too, that he also thought of Yuki as part of the family – even when he’d broken Sakura’s heart and might yet break Touya’s. Touya didn’t know how much his father suspected, but it was probably a good deal more than he let on. 

Fujitaka came to stand in the doorway beside him. He lay a warm hand on Touya’s head and gently ruffled his hair. He had to reach up to do it. When had Touya gotten taller than he was? His hand was damp, and he smelled faintly of lemon dishsoap. “And how are you?” 

“I’m OK,” Touya said. He thought of how Yuki had just been smoothing his hair like that. How his fingers had been cool, like a breeze ruffling through it. 

Fujitaka’s waiting silence spoke volumes. 

“Really, I’m OK,” Touya said. “I don’t want to make things any harder for Yuki or Sakura than they already are.” He swallowed. He was admitting a lot. 

“I’ve always admired how you take care of the people around you. You’re so patient. You always think of yourself last.” 

Touya blushed and hunched his shoulders, as embarrassed as if he’d been scolded. He didn’t know what to do with such a direct compliment from his father. 

Fujitaka let his hand drop. Touya thought he would turn and go back into the house, but after another pause, he said, “I’ve often wondered if I was wrong to ask your mother to marry me so soon, before she had a chance to spread her wings on her own. I’ve wondered if it was worth hurting her family the way we did. Maybe it would have been better if we had been more patient.” 

That shocked Touya enough that he turned to look at him. Fujitaka, gentle about so many things, was fierce in the defense of his love for Nadeshiko. Touya had never heard him voice any doubts. Fujitaka looked into the distance, wearing the bittersweet expression he always wore when talking about Touya’s mother. Standing in the doorway in his apron and slippers and dishwater-steamed glasses, his father looked at once strong and fragile.

“But in the end, we didn’t have that long together. I can’t regret a single moment.” 

With that, he turned and scuffed back to the kitchen. The sound of the sink running and the clink of dishes resumed. 

Touya shut the door and braced his back against it. There was no way. Had his father just? Had he meant? He couldn’t have. But there was no other explanation…

He knew Touya loved Yuki, and he wasn’t upset. 

Relief settled over him, so immense that Touya couldn’t yet make out the whole of it. It warred with anxiety over his father’s advice. He should just tell him. He had to tell him. There was no knowing how much time they had. He’d nearly lost Yuki once already. Was he willing to waste another night? 

It turned out that he was. He didn’t race down the street to Yuki’s house. He walked in a trance past Sakura on the stairs. 

“Nii-chan?” 

He let his room door slam shut behind him and fell face first onto his bed.

He hoped sleep would come for him, but of course it had lost interest. He listened to Sakura come back up the stairs, pause at his door, then give up and go to her room instead. He heard the faint singsong cadence of the stuffed animal’s Osaka accent through the wall. He heard the door to his father’s study open and close downstairs. 

His father knew, and he didn’t hate him. He knew, and he still wanted Yuki to be a part of their family. He knew, and he thought Touya was being an idiot. 

Touya huffed and pushed himself up. He changed into a loose tshirt and boxers, hanging up his button down and jeans. They were in good enough shape to wear to work again. Thank the eight hundred gods he had the afternoon shift at the coffee shop tomorrow and could sleep in. He thought about the manga in his bag. He certainly didn’t have the presence of mind to study, but he was probably up to reading manga. 

***

The next day he left for work early enough to stop by Maruzen first. He bought volumes two through six of _Azure Wind_ and volume two of _Score!,_ which was all there was. Some other titles looked interesting, but he felt self-conscious standing in the BL section long enough to browse. Anyway, this was a chunk of money. He had plenty saved, but that was because he tried not to spend it. He would have to pick up some extra hours to budget for this, he thought as he walked across the street to the coffee shop. 

He hadn’t been prepared for how it would affect him, seeing people like himself in stories – even melodramatic, fantastical, idealized stories. The knight in _Azure Wind_ was hopelessly in love with the queen of his kingdom when the story began. She left him to take on the mantle of royalty, and the jealous young king sent the knight on a suicidal quest to retrieve a cursed sword. The weapon’s guardian was the winged man who’d first caught Touya’s attention. The knight and guardian were enemies in the first volume, and Touya wanted to know how they got to the point where they were so desperately wrapped around each other by volume seven. They did things Touya had never even considered. …Since the night before, he hadn’t done much _besides_ consider them. It wasn’t just the sex, though. The few porn mags and videos he’d looked at had turned him off with how brutal and impersonal they were. He couldn’t see himself in them. The stories in the manga were different. They were about how people hurt each other without meaning to, how they sacrificed themselves, how they overcame misunderstandings and gathered the courage to expose their hearts. There was a tender goodness in them that was so very like Yuki. They were like everything he wanted with Yuki. 

He hadn’t slept much after all, so he made himself a quadruple espresso when he go into work. He wished he’d left himself time to actually read some of his new manga before his shift started. Maybe it was just as well. He was bothered and distracted as it was. In between taking orders and steaming milk to a froth, he kept thinking about the knight and the guardian. About how the knight licked the downy border between feathers and skin. (It was impossible to keep from imagining Yue.) How he kissed down the crease of the guardian’s back, and lower, spreading him and licking him. How he pushed his tongue inside till feathers filled the air.

Touya and Kaho had kissed. That was all they’d done. They’d done it enough that Touya liked to think he was good at kissing, and he was imaginative. He thought he’d imagined kissing Yuki all over, but he’d never imagined kissing him _there._ Would it feel good? Would Yuki like it?

Touya had pressed spitslicked fingers into himself the night before, and he’d liked it. 

Shit, he couldn’t keep thinking about this. It was a good thing his jeans were tight and his apron was loose. 

“I didn’t order a mocha,” a cross woman in a suit was glaring at him. 

“Here you go,” little Misato said, handing the woman the café au lait she’d ordered. She must have made it on the fly as she watched Touya fucking up. “Sorry about that,” she apologized more cheerfully than anyone else Touya knew. The woman blinked and assured Misato it was no problem. She went on her way. 

“Sorry,” Touya said, not cheerful. This was the fourth order he’d messed up. 

“Go take a break. You look wiped.” 

“I can’t just–”

“You cover for me all the time when I need a smoke. Come on, you didn’t take any days off even though you’ve been sick or whatever. Go nap for half an hour. You can stay later to make it up. No one will mind. We all like you.” Her barrage of words left no opening for him to object. She backed him into the storeroom. “Drink this when you wake up.” She pushed the mocha into his hand and shut the door on him. 

He huffed. Outplayed by someone half his size. He was lucky Sakura hadn’t figured out how to effectively bully him back yet. He imagined it would be something like what had just happened. 

Well, Misato wasn’t wrong. He needed to pull himself together. He was tired, but sleepiness wasn’t his most pressing problem. And his backpack was right there in the corner, fat with his recent purchases.

He set the mocha on a shelf and pulled _Score!_ out of his bag. He sat on the floor in the back, behind a stack of boxes. He flipped through the pages, looking for a good scene. He would go back and read it properly later. There. The team’s star player had dragged his shy underclassman boyfriend into the gym’s supplies room – not so different from a dimly lit storage room.

Touya lifted his apron and held it in his teeth. He held the book open in his left hand, turning pages with his thumb. The shy underclassman was biting his fist, blushing, glasses askew, the star player on his knees in front of him. God yes. It felt heavenly to undo his tight jeans and relieve that pressure, only to renew it with a firm grip. 

The underclassman’s knees gave out. Laughing, the star player gathered him in his arms, stood, and tossed him onto a pile of practice mats. A little bottle fell out of the boy’s loose trousers’ pocket. The star player picked it up, curious. His eyes went wide, then devilish. 

_“You were carrying this around? At school?”_

The underclassman rolled over, hiding his face with both hands.

_“Did you hope I’d catch you like this?”_

The star player uncapped the bottle, dripped clear, thick liquid onto the little dimpled triangle above the cleft of his lover’s bare ass. He traced a finger through it, trailing liquid down his skin. He played circles around the boy’s cute, puckered hole. Even hiding his face, the underclassman lifted his hips for it. He was dripping onto the mats.

_“Or…were you going to use it on yourself?”_

Touya wished he dared pull his pants further down, but he needed to be able to feign fully clothed napping if a coworker came in. He promised himself he’d do more when he got home. 

_“Like this?”_

His fist was a blur.

The underclassman had reached up between his legs. His cheek was pressed into the mat, mouth open, panting. Oh, both their hands were in him, knuckle deep, sliding against each other, stretching him wide. Touya didn’t make it any further. A shock of pleasure took him by surprise, wracking him and wringing him out. It was all he could do to stay perfectly quiet. The manga fell from his hand. It was a moment before he dared stop clenching his jaw and let the apron fall from his slack mouth. He looked down.

Shit. He hadn’t caught it at all. A trail of white painted the front of his black button down. He wiped it off as best he could with spit and paper towels from a nearby box. It was a good thing he wore an apron at this job. He’d just smoothed said apron into place when the door opened and Misato peeked around it.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“I couldn’t sleep after all.”

“I feel like a jerk after telling you to take a break, but we need you out here. A river of salarymen just came in. Oh, and your boyfriend.”

“My…he’s not…”

“Seriously? Huh.” She tapped her chin. “So he’s single?”

Touya glared.

“I thought so.” She winked at him and ducked out.

He let out a long breath and rested his forehead against the cool metal of a nearby shelf. At least he didn’t think she’d say anything to Yuki. She liked teasing, but she was the sort to have your back when it mattered. Then again, if she thought she’d be doing Touya a favor by saying something to Yuki, she might. Touya stuffed the crumpled paper towels and manga into his backpack and hurried out. Misato was safely trapped behind the register. Good.

Yuki looked up from his book, noticing Touya immediately. He smiled. Then he furrowed his brow and tilted his head, the question clear: was Touya alright? He must look like he’d just been taking a nap in the storeroom. He hoped that’s what it looked like he’d been doing. Touya gave him a slow blink, like a cat. That made Yuki smile to himself as he went back to reading.

He was the only one who made Yuki smile like that.

“I need two large lattes, skim, and a tall regular,” Misato called. Touya pulled on a pair of gloves and got to work. At least he was able to focus now. An hour marched by in an endless string of lattes, and then the crowds ebbed as quickly as they had risen. At last it was just Yuki in the store and a few college students equally caught up in their studies. Touya made a caramel vanilla latte with one more shot each of caramel and vanilla than he’d put in last time. He was up to five. He topped the foam in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. He gave a pointed look to his coworkers and headed over to Yuki’s table. He set the drink down and sat across from him.

Yuki picked up the latte without looking up from the book and sipped it. He didn’t make a face. He didn’t complain that it was too sweet. He did get whipped cream on his nose. Touya reached across the table and wiped it off onto his fingertip. That finally got Yuki’s attention. Touya licked the whipped cream off his finger. Was he imagining it? Yuki looked lost, the way he had after Yue had manifested and retreated, like he didn’t know where he was or what he’d been doing. 

“You’re almost finished with the book already,” Touya said. He was testing this theory. He dipped his finger in the whipped cream and licked it off again. Yuki blinked owlishly at him, then looked down at the book as if he were surprised to find it there. 

“I…yes. Just a few more pages. I thought if I finished it here, I could hand it off to you.”

Touya would bet the yen he’d just won from his coworkers that Yuki was as flustered and hard now as he’d been the night before. Touya narrowed his eyes. Yuki swallowed, staring down at the book without seeing it, his pupils gone wide as dark pools. A wash of pink colored his fair cheeks. 

He’d been reading Yuki wrong. This thing that had changed between them, it wasn’t aversion. It was desire.

Hope reared wild in Touya’s chest. He clung to it, letting it carry the question from him, “Can you stick around till my shift is over? We could get dinner out.”

“Won’t your family be expecting you?”

“I’ll call them.”

“I suppose out is better. I’m sorry about dinner last night.” Yuki was still looking down.

“Yuki,” Touya chided. He reached across the table to pinch Yuki’s cheek. “We were glad to have you.” _No. Stop pretending._ He opened his hand and cupped Yuki’s cheek instead, brushing his thumb over the fine bone. “I was glad you came.” Better. Yuki met his eyes. His own were the color of moonlight shining through honey. Were they glowing a little?

“How about the Chinese place in the station?” Touya said, naming the nearest nice restaurant in a rush. He felt like if he didn’t hurry, all his words would flee.

“O…OK,” Yuki said.

“Good.” He could do this. He would do it.

Misato gave him twin victory signs behind the counter when he got back. He didn’t think it was about his continuing to win their bet. He held out his hand, deadpan, as his coworkers each forked over a sen bill. He’d be able to afford dinner no problem.

He wasn’t the least bit sleepy now. As he worked, he thought the words to himself like a mantra. _Ore wa omae ga suki._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! They give me life. It is so fun to share this with other people who enjoy these characters as much as I do. Thanks for coming along for the ride.


	3. At Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touya and Yuki don't get to go on their planned first date, and Touya is determined to make up for it. He has plans to spoil Yuki...and himself.
> 
> (If Touya were a real person, he'd look like Lee Min Ho, and [this](https://www.dropbox.com/s/e0nvqmv8d5x55um/Touya%20faceclaim.jpg?dl=0) is how I picture him in this fic.)

As the end of his shift neared, Touya grew increasingly anxious and eager. This was a date. He’d asked Yuki on a date. They ate together all the time, cooking together, stopping by the convenience store together, or even eating out at restaurants where Touya worked. But he’d never specifically asked Yuki to have dinner with him like this, and never at an expensive restaurant. He wished he’d worn nicer clothes. 

Oh, his shirt. Good thing he’d remembered. At the next lull in customers, Touya went into the bathroom to wash off the faint white spatter outlines that he’d left there earlier. His trusty apron hid the damp spots on his shirt, just as it had hidden the stains. 

When he stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes naturally searched for Yuki, like they had been doing every ten seconds or so for the last couple of hours. But Yuki’s table was empty. Had he had the same idea and gone home to change? 

“He left in a hurry,” Misato said once Touya was back behind the counter. “Asked me to tell you that someone named Yue had called, and there was something he had to go do. It must have been urgent. He seemed upset. Oh, and he left that for you.” She pointed. The book he’d given Yuki was sitting at the end of the counter. 

“Thanks,” Touya said. He picked up the book and flipped it open. There was a note scrawled on a napkin inside. _Sorry about dinner._ That was all. 

Touya swallowed a growl of frustration. There was always something. Every time he geared himself up to tell Yuki how he felt, something got in the way. For a few deep breaths, he let himself feel irrational hurt at that terse apology. Then logic rallied. Clearly something was going on with Sakura. It wasn’t Yuki’s fault. It wasn’t Sakura’s fault. If Sakura was in danger, he wanted Yue there to protect her. He would always have to share Yuki like this, and if he let himself feel even a sliver of bitterness over it, Yuki would notice. 

Honestly, Yuki was probably more upset about this than he was. Touya wasn’t sure if Yuki had realized he was asking him out on a date or not, but either way he’d feel terrible about bailing on him. And he was missing dinner. Well, Touya could do something about that. 

After work, he went shopping. He was spending more money in a weekend than he usually did in a month, but he was in the mood to spoil himself. More importantly, he was in the mood to spoil Yuki. And he had his bet winnings to put toward it. All the stores in the station area were open late. His first stop was a little florist shop, where he bought a bouquet of calla lilies, half white and half deep maroon. It was a big bouquet. People turned their heads to look at it, smiling and exclaiming quietly to each other as he left the shop. He left it in his bike basket while he went into a little family-owned grocery store, where he got the ingredients for homemade gyoza. He could have just gotten frozen, but he was in the mood to cook. It would feel good to be doing something. He got enough to make dinner for his father and Sakura too. It was technically Sakura’s turn to cook, but he doubted she had gotten the chance. 

He’d meant for that to be the end of his food purchases, but as he passed a bakery with a lit glass case in the window filled with fantastical confections, he thought about the way Yuki could never walk past a bakery without looking. Touya paused to look for him. What would he like best? It was hard to say. Yuki liked all sweets. But there was a beautiful strawberry shortcake topped in swirls of whipped cream, a strawberry set in each. Touya imagined plucking strawberries dipped in cream and feeding them to Yuki, or Yuki with cream at the corner of his mouth. 

He went in. “I’d like the strawberry shortcake.” 

“How many pieces?” 

“A whole cake. The one in the window.” 

The man went and got the cake, boxing it. He wrapped the box in fine paper and sealed it with a sticker with the bakery’s logo. 

“Is it for a birthday party?” he asked. 

“Mm,” Touya said. He wondered what the man would think if he knew it was for just one person. Well, two. Yuki would want to share it. 

He could just fit the cake box and the bouquet in his basket. That was nearly everything. 

Tomoeda’s small club district was on the other side of the station. Where the front of the station was a cute shopping district, the neighborhood behind it was a maze of narrow alleys, hole-in-the-wall izakayas, and hostess and host clubs. The sun was just setting, and the neighborhood was only now coming to life. Touya rode his bike self-consciously down the narrow lanes lined in faded red lanterns and neon lights, past men handing out flyers for hostess clubs, and through clouds of yakitori-scented steam. In between a dubious video rental shop and a Sanrio-themed love hotel, he found a store that looked like it sold the things he was looking for. The manga had given him ideas. He doubted that he and Yuki would need lube or anything like that soon. (So he firmly told himself.) But there was nothing to stop him buying some things to use on his own…

With a ridiculously heavy backpack, grocery bags on each arm, and a bicycle basket full of cake and lilies, Touya made his way home. Now that he’d finished his buying spree, mingled anxiety and anticipation crept up on him again. He wondered if he ought not to have gone so over the top. The grand gestures were more for him than they were for Yuki, weren’t they? Yuki might find them embarrassing. Too much. And if, desire aside, Yuki had some compelling reason to turn him down, wouldn’t all this make it harder on him? 

Well, he’d already bought everything. He could be selfish this once. He’d spent so long holding back where Yuki was concerned. He wanted to lavish him with gifts and food. 

The house was quiet when he got there. He found a note on the whiteboard that his father was going to spend the night working at the university. Sakura was nowhere to be found, as he’d thought. There were no signs of anyone making dinner. Easier for him, since that meant the kitchen was clean. 

He put the lilies in a pitcher of water, unpacked groceries onto the counter, and donned his apron. Cooking was always a comfort to him. It was physical, a thing he could navigate by touch and scent and taste. He was confident at it. His father had always been the best cook in the house, even when his mother was alive. Touya had been so young when his father started teaching him that he’d needed a stepladder to reach the counter. He still couldn’t bake as well as his father did, but he had mastered most of Fujitaka’s kitchen secrets. And gyoza were his specialty. His father admitted that Touya’s gyoza were better than his own. He felt his frustration slipping away as he kneaded filling and rolled out dough till it was translucent. He made some with extra garlic, which his father liked, some with extra shiitake, which Sakura liked, and the rest with extra ginger, which Yuki liked. His hands were swift as he stuffed each dumpling and pinched them shut with a slick of egg batter. He cooked half of them in a woven bamboo steamer while he pan fried the other half. When he’d finished, he set aside a portion for his father and one for Sakura, putting each in the fridge with a note. He arranged the rest into one of the big lacquer bento boxes they used for picnics, red with white rabbits on it. 

That was it for preparations. His watch read nine o’clock. Sakura wasn’t back yet, which meant that Yuki wasn’t home yet either. Knowing her, she’d probably fly up to the house and sneak in through her room window. He’d be able to hear that from his own room, so he went upstairs to wait. 

Every time he looked at his watch, bare minutes had passed. He had felt calm so long as he was doing something, but now he couldn’t stop running scenarios through his mind. What if Yuki was hurt from battle? What if he was exhausted and went right to bed? What if Touya couldn’t speak? He could just see himself standing on Yuki’s doorstep like an idiot, shoving the bouquet at him in silent mortification, the way Li did when he gave Yuki things. He had to do better than the brat, at the very least. 

If the bad scenarios made him glad he hadn’t eaten yet, good scenarios were almost worse. Each consecutive thought made his heart beat harder. His hands were shaking. This was ridiculous. He needed to stay calm and take things one step at a time. He needed to distract himself. He could read his new manga till Sakura got back. 

He unpacked the rest of his purchases, taking them out of their plastic wrap and boxes, and spread them on his bed. There were all his manga, spread in a fan so he could admire the cover art. Beside these was a bottle of lube that advertised itself specifically for anal play. Smooth as silk, it said. Silicone safe. The shop had been intimidating in its variety of selection, and he’d spent an embarrassingly long time reading the backs of bottles and gaping at the other things for sale. His last purchase had been an impulse buy – a shapely, pert, pearlescent white dildo. Out of its box, it sat upright on the bed like a challenge. It had been one of the smaller toys for sale. Some of them had been frankly terrifying. Next to them, this had looked inviting. It was pretty even. About the size he imagined Yuki would be. 

Alone on the bed it looked bigger than it had in the shop. Touya’s stomach clenched with a mix of desire and trepidation. He wanted to try. It would be a shame to pass up an empty house. He wasn’t sure he was bold enough to do this if Sakura or his father were home. And this way, he didn’t have to worry about making noise. 

At first, he just held it, feeling the heft and texture of it. It was heavy, surprisingly velvety. He pet over the detailed veins, the ribbed ridge under the head, the slit along the top. He liked the way his long fingers looked, splayed over it. It was easy to imagine it was Yuki. On a whim he leaned over and sucked as much of it into his mouth as he could. 

It tasted like chemicals. He laughed at himself as he backed off. That’s what he got for being so eager. He took it to the bathroom to wash it. He grabbed a few towels while he was there and covered his bed with these when he got back, sweeping the manga to the floor. 

The dildo was still warm from the hot water. Licking it hesitantly, he found that now it only tasted faintly of soap. Not unpleasant. He lay on his back on the towels and held it over his face, fucking his mouth gently. He closed his eyes, imagining Yuki there, straddling him. He’d snuck looks at Yuki when they changed for soccer practice. Yuki had hardly any body hair, just a dusting of silvery curls in his armpits. Touya imagined a similar nest of soft curls just above his cock. Yuki was lean and athletic, but his stomach was soft rather than muscular. He had the slightest paunch over the band of his soccer shorts. It was adorable. He would look so delicious towering over him. Would he squinch his eyes shut and bite his lip, as if it hurt? Or would he dare look down at him, watching him do this? Touya liked that thought. Those wide, wondering eyes holding his as he swallowed him. He was hard at just this, the weight on his tongue and fullness in his mouth. He relaxed his throat, taking it deeper, till the balls at the base nestled against his chin. Yuki would be trembling, close to coming already. 

_Not yet. I want more than this from you._

He pulled it free with a pop, spit trailing from his mouth, and brushed the wet tip down his chest and stomach. He pressed it against his hole. It felt more than his fingers. Even this much pressure had a slight burn. He opened his eyes, pausing in his imaginings long enough to uncap the lube and pour a liberal amount over the tip of the dildo. It was thick, pooling in the dimple at the tip and running slowly down the slit and along the veins, glittering clear over pearl white. He dripped some on his own erection to see what it felt like. He hissed. It was ticklish and cool against heated skin. He slicked a hand down himself. 

“Oh…fuck…”

He arched into the slippery tight pressure of his own hand. Lotion could go fuck itself; this stuff was the best. He pet down further, splaying fingers over his hole. He positioned the tip of the dildo there again. On a shaky exhale, he flexed his forearm, pushing it in. It was alarming how it just kept stretching him. How the fuck big was this thing? He could do this. He could. It might be easier if he were imagining something. 

His mind drifted and snagged on an unexpected memory: Yue’s arms. Being held like that had been at once the most vulnerable and comforting feeling. He gave Yue all he had, and Yue caught and cradled him. He imagined white feathers blocking out all view of the world but for Yue’s face, his slitted eyes reflective and unnerving as a predator’s, at odds with their tender, uncertain expression. He could relax. He wanted Yue to take whatever he needed. 

All at once the tip slipped past that tight ring of muscles. He’d been pressing so hard, the rest slid after, sheathing it to the base. Touya grunted. He imagined Yue arching, wings spread rampant as he buried himself inside him. Droplets of sweat shone in the light of his skin. He curled trembling wings and body down over Touya as he rested, letting them both adjust to the intensity of this feeling. 

He was so full. Panic wavered at the edge of his pleasure. Touya breathed deep and pet up his side and chest, imagining feathers petting him like that. He ran slick fingers over his lips. He wished someone were really there to kiss him. It would be decadent to kiss like this, having his mouth claimed too. A pang of longing overwhelmed him. He wanted more than physical pleasure. It wasn’t just that he wanted to kiss and be kissed, to fuck and be fucked. He wanted so much more. 

He took himself in hand to distract himself, replacing that impossible ache with another that he could sate. He pulled out, pushed in, just flexing his wrist at first, then moving a little more, and more. It got easier. The burn was building to something that wasn’t pain at all. He realized he liked short, fast thrusts, keeping the wide head deep inside him. Yue would have to hold his legs to fuck him like this. He was strong; it would take no effort at all for him to hold Touya’s weight, pulling him onto his lap. It was hard to imagine Yuki just…using him like this. But Touya could imagine Yue studying him, realizing what he wanted and giving it to him with merciless precision. 

“Yu– ” His cry cut off as sweet fire rose in him like a memory of his power, waking all his senses. He could feel every centimeter of the implacable length inside him, stretching him as he shuddered and clenched. Spasm after spasm rolled through him till at last he fell back panting. The dildo slipped out with a wet sound. It left him twinging and empty. 

He’d nearly called out Yue’s name. He swallowed in trepidation at the thought, even in an empty house. Would Yue know if he called his name? Most beings of power did. He was manifest out there, somewhere, battling with Sakura. (It was so unfair she got to see him like that and Touya didn’t.) Touya hadn’t meant to fantasize about him. He didn’t like to admit how much it had done for him. 

Well, fantasies were fantasies. He fantasized about Yuki all the time, and it didn’t affect his respect for his friend. Fantasies paled in comparison to the prospect of something real. 

Touya rolled over, off the bed, and sprang to his feet. He had to get ready. Yuki could be home any minute. The muscles in his lower back protested. His ass stung. He limped a step and laughed at himself. “Why do anything by halves?” 

He grabbed one of the clean towels and went to take a hot shower. By the time he was out, his muscles had relaxed and he wasn’t limping. He stood at his mirror with the towel around his waist, blowdrying his hair. He rarely styled it, but he wanted to look as cool as possible tonight. He put some gel in it for good measure. 

“Ore wa omae ga suki,” he said it to the mirror, practicing. 

He put on his favorite dress shirt. It was a steel grey button down with a faint sheen to it, tailored tight. It was meant to be worn untucked and had black leather points on the wings of the collar and the end of each shirttail. He tried it buttoned up with a tie. 

“Ore wa omae ga suki da.” 

He tried it unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled. 

“Ore wa omae ga – ” 

There was a thunk from Sakura’s room, followed by a clatter of things falling off the shelf under her window. Really, if she were going to keep going in and out of the window like that, she should at least clear the top of her shelf. He could hear the stuffed animal's, “Are you OK?” even through the wall. It was cute that Sakura could maintain the belief she was being sneaky. 

Touya, who was actually capable of sneaking, quickly and quietly hid his manga, dildo, and lube in a drawer. He pulled on black dress socks and new black briefs (not that Yuki would see them, but he could hope), and a pair of tailored wool slacks that he liked to think showed off his ass. Then he padded downstairs. He supposed he should feel guilty leaving his sister at home “alone,” but she had the stuffed animal with her, besides having her own arsenal of magical powers. He left a note on the whiteboard in case she noticed he was gone, “Gone to Yuki’s to study. I left gyoza in the fridge for you.” 

He took the cake box and bento out of the fridge and the lilies out of the pitcher of water. He went to the door, slipping on his black dress shoes. This was it. 

The walk to Yuki’s house had never felt so long. Strangely enough, the ache in his ass and lower back helped ground him. He felt unexpectedly calm and clear headed, now that it had come to it. The gate creaked when he opened it. The stand of bamboo sighed and rustled around him. The stone path took him past the veranda of the grand house. It was timeless, the sort of place one expected to find kami or yokai. No, it housed something far more wondrous. 

“Touya?” 

Touya whirled. Yuki sat on the veranda with a mug of steaming tea in his hands. If Touya still had his powers, he would never have walked past him without noticing. At least Yuki sounded as surprised as he was. 

“Yuki…”

He stood on the white gravel border between the veranda and garden, the border between one world and another, praying he’d be allowed to cross. Even with Yuki seated on the raised wooden platform, Touya towered over him.

“I thought you might not have eaten dinner yet.” 

“I haven’t,” Yuki said. He stared up at him like he didn’t quite believe Touya was real. 

“I made some gyoza, so I figured I’d bring them over,” he said. There was no playing this off as casual. He had a giant bouquet in one hand. “Yuki…”

Yuki’s throat was so beautiful as he swallowed. His hands were wrapped hard around the mug, knuckles showing white. His breath was coming shallow. 

“Suki,” Touya whispered. Then louder, voice rough, “Suki da.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next installment in the series. "...Suki."


End file.
